


scattering stars like dust

by templefugate



Series: Sam Wilson Appreciation Fics [10]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Reality, Alternate Universe, Angst, Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Spoilers, Drabble, Established Relationship, False Memories, Fix-It of Sorts, M/M, One Shot, POV Character of Color, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-17
Updated: 2018-05-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 08:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14690709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/templefugate/pseuds/templefugate
Summary: Whenever Sam awoke, face hot and body tense, he'd try and shake the images away. Some nights he'd even pull the gold band from his night stand and sleep with it on, as though it could push back his strange visions like a cross could a vampire.





	scattering stars like dust

**Author's Note:**

> Infinity War did not agree with me.

A little known fact about James Buchanan Barnes, better known to the world as Captain America (or America the Beautiful, though Sam was pretty sure he was the only human alive who could call him to that to his face), was that he could sleep through a hurricane. Once his head hit a pillow, it was lights out for seven to nine hours. On many of those same nights, Sam would sit, silently cursing the sandman.

Admittedly, Bucky had a bit more experience than him. He still remembered the day the news hit that Captain America had awoken from a seventy year coma. It had been splashed across the front page of every major newspaper, been the talk of news anchors for nearly two weeks straight, and clogged countless Facebook feeds. Captain America went from a war hero, former radio star, and an exciting anecdote in history class to a top trending hashtag.

All that, and the first person Sam had actually heard it from was his grandfather.

"You pulling my leg?" Sam had laughed, the sound echoing across the phone and back into his ears. Even before he'd asked, he'd known the answer. The way his grandfather had spoken, his tone firm and calm, said more than words did. The world had changed drastically.

Bucky and Jebediah Wilson had grown up in the same city, gone to the same army recruitment center, and fought in the same war. They were living testament to an age that each day slipped further and further beneath the roaring ocean of time.

Perhaps they'd even met - nothing too noticable that it would stick in their memory, but enough to prove fate had a way of entertaining itself. Of course Sam never thought about it too long, lest his mind get _weird_.

Not that Sam ever ran out of thoughts. His brain was so full of them that half the time he had to wonder how he had room to store them all. Every once in a while, one would get spoken aloud, presented to the world.

"When you were in there, did you ever dream?"

Looking back, Sam couldn't remember how he'd had the balls to ask him. It was one thing for Bucky to slap on a smile and talk to a historian or filmmaker and another to speak to the man who shared his bed and stole his coffee.

"I... I don't remember." There'd been that same conviction in his voice that his grandfather's had once had. Perhaps the ice had stolen his dreams, much the way it had taken his arm.

Other questions Bucky couldn't even answer.

"What if you were blond?"

When Sam thought about it, asking the question made about as much sense as putting popsicles in the microwave. Still, it had haunted his mind and pulled at his tongue.

When his eyes finally did shut most nights, the man he saw _was_ blond. He wore the same suit, carried the same shield, and bore the same flag. Yet his face was different, unmistakably that of another man. Whenever Sam awoke, face hot and body tense, he'd try and shake the images away. Some nights he'd even pull the gold band from his night stand and sleep with it on, as though it could push back his strange visions like a cross could a vampire.

Thoughts of the man always came at night, when the respectable musings of the day scampered away. A name hung on the tip of his lips, a word he couldn't quite figure out how to utter.

Whoever he was, Sam could never find the words for him. Perhaps it was for the better - with America at one-hundred-sixty-three-million strong, the last person Bucky needed to be worried about was one that probably didn't exist.

**Author's Note:**

> So if Thanos can control reality and time, who's to stop him from making a new universe for everyone who disappeared? Why did anyone have to die?
> 
> I may explore this idea further in the future.


End file.
